


Pain and Pleasure

by HopeCoppice



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Marquis de Sade - Freeform, Not our main characters, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: "They say he was investigating pain as pleasure." Aziraphale giggled coquettishly and Crowley’s cheeks burned. "We must hope this doesn't awaken anything within us!"Warnings: very briefly referenced non-con, referenced pain play, references to the Marquis De Sade.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32
Collections: Name That Author Round 3: After Dark





	Pain and Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Another Name That Author entry - this one for the After Dark round. Thanks again to everyone involved!
> 
> Prompt was "I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me" so check out the rest of the collection for more of that.
> 
> Also, there's some beautiful (and spicy) art for this now by doorwaytoparadise, who we do not deserve. You can find that here: [**Awakening**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102748) but be aware that the page as a whole is NSFW.

Crowley stood in a rustle of silk and made her way across to where Aziraphale was occupying a whole chaise longue to herself.

"Madame. May I?"

"Oh, Crowley! I didn't know you were here, though I suppose it makes sense. Do sit." She shuffled over, and Crowley perched close beside her.

"It makes sense that I'm here? Then you know what they're promising."

"Oh, yes. A chance to hear the truth about the infamous Marquis de Sade."

Crowley hummed her agreement; the Marquis' family, wealthy and powerful, had done their best to keep his proclivities secret, but gossip couldn't be entirely suppressed and the lack of an official version of events had allowed a thousand unofficial tales to spread like wildfire. Now the man was dead, and Parisian society was desperate for the truth. 

"I'm supposed to find a way for my side to torture the randy old toad; why are  _ you  _ here?"

"Oh, curiosity, I suppose; the man did write books, you know, and they say he was investigating pain as pleasure." Aziraphale giggled coquettishly and Crowley’s cheeks burned. "We must hope this doesn't awaken anything within us!"

A young woman stepped forward at the salonniere's invitation; this was a meeting of many of the most influential people in France, people who could protect her from those who’d bought her silence.

"I said I’d serve him, but I didn’t expect- and I said I’d keep it secret, but he’s dead now." The listeners tittered indulgently; the woman spoke the unpolished French of the servant class, and few of those gathered would usually listen to her.

The details she imparted of her treatment at the hands of the Marquis were sparse, but brutal, and had had nothing to do with mutual pleasure. De Sade himself might have enjoyed his acts of violence against the girl, but she wept at the memory. Crowley winced, even as she made a mental note that perhaps Hell should simply  _ employ  _ De Sade. 

"Oh, bless her," Aziraphale whispered as the girl finished speaking, and Crowley felt the miracle pass.

As the salon adjourned, Aziraphale took Crowley's arm and steered her into her waiting carriage.

"I'm afraid I'm not finished with you yet," the angel told her, a most unangelic glint in her eye, and Crowley subsided into the seat without complaint as they sped through the city and onto an empty country road.

"Well?" Aziraphale asked eagerly. "What did you think?"

"He's where he belongs," Crowley shrugged. "It's cruel, hurting someone and pretending they should enjoy it."

"Without consent, certainly - but what if one's partner was open to experimentation? Isn’t it possible that pain and pleasure are related?"

"I- I suppose I'd have to try it, to be certain."

"Hmm." Aziraphale reached out and cupped Crowley's chin in her hand. "I'm an angel. I'm not supposed to please a demon." Her thumb brushed across Crowley's lips and a soft, desperate sound escaped. "Nobody could object to me  _ hurting  _ you, though."

“Then hurt me,” Crowley whispered.


End file.
